


Tabloids

by glitchbirds



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989), Ghostbusters - All Media Types, The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 04:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchbirds/pseuds/glitchbirds
Summary: "Zeddemore, let's say you and me go for a drive." Venkman squeezed his shoulder briefly, and all at once, Winston Zeddemore realized that he'd been swept into something bigger than he'd anticipated.Based on a little scene from one of the movie novelizations.





	Tabloids

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this little segment of Richard Mueller's Ghostbusters novelization: [here](https://imgur.com/a/RHlNWwc).
> 
> Characterization takes a lot of cues from the novelization of the movie, obviously, but I pictured the RGB versions while writing it, if that tells you anything.
> 
> The relationship isn't made explicit, and I tried to keep the overall tone of this fic on the subtle side of things, but this is definitely a story about Winston realizing he's falling in love with Venkman. (And, while this is only hinted at, Venkman's falling in love with Winston as well, on top of already dating Egon and Ray.)
> 
> I've been on and off working on and editing this thing for about 4 months now and I'm tired of working on it, so, here it is. Thank you.

There were plenty of downsides to hiring a new guy- most of which involved the disruption of routine. Ray, Egon, and Venkman had known each other since college, and knew each other like the back of their hands- throwing another person into the mix could be difficult, if not dangerous. But as far as Venkman was concerned, the pros outweighed the cons. Case in point- Winston Zeddemore knew better than to give Venkman an outright "no" when taken aside after a bust and asked him to hold off on putting the Class-9 in the containment unit. 

"Are you sure?" Winston had asked, even as he sat the smoldering box aside. 

"'Course I'm sure. Just don't tell Ray and Egon." That, of course, set off a few alarm bells, which Venkman was quick to shut down. "Don't worry, I promise I know what I'm doing. And if they find out, I'll take the fall."

Winston nodded, once, but still seemed nervous. "How do I hide it from them?"

Venkman flashed a quick grin- disarming, charming, and only a little concerning. "Ray showed you how to put these guys in the containment unit already, right?"

"One of the first things he taught me. Not exactly hard work."

"He trust you enough to let you drop them off yourself?"

"Sure."

"Then there you go! When we get back, go downstairs alone, and hide the trap behind the boxes under the stairs."

And he did.

Two days later, Winston felt a hand clap on his shoulder and flinched, nearly dropping the book in his hands- a well-worn paperback edition of The Return of Sherlock Holmes. Venkman swung the trap around from its cord, grinning down at Winston on the couch. "Zeddemore, let's say you and me go for a drive." Venkman squeezed his shoulder briefly, and all at once, Winston Zeddemore realized that he'd been swept into something bigger than he'd anticipated. 

"Where to, Dr. Venkman?"

"Don't worry 'bout it. I'll drive."

He stood, fighting down the sudden knot of anxiety in his throat. Venkman shook his head. "Hey, nothing’s wrong. We’re not in trouble or anything. Just come on."

The first few minutes of the drive passed in palpable silence. Just when Winston was sure he'd pass out from either the mind-numbing curiosity or the nerves, Venkman spoke up. "We're going to pay the National Reporter a little courtesy visit."

Winston nodded, once. 

The silence after that, somehow, was twice as thick. Venkman broke it with a sharp laugh. "You can ask me stuff, you know."

"Wasn't sure."

"I'm not gonna bite your head off for curiosity, man. You know the National Reporter?"

"It's a tabloid. Didn't they-"

"Ran a story on us." Venkman's hand tightened on the wheel. "All of us." 

"Right." Winston thought it over for a moment. "That was... about a week ago, wasn't it?"

"Mhm. Did you read it?"

"Nah. But I remember you yelling about it to Dr. Stantz."

It was the first time Winston had truly seen Venkman angry, and the memory stuck with him. He'd punched a hole in the wall, broken his own desk lamp, and seemed about ready to take on every goddamned paparazzo bare-handed, if Ray hadn't had the presence of mind to hold him back and forcibly calm him down. Winston hadn't heard much of the conversation itself- just the string of curses Venkman had snarled out before Ray soothed him back to a more manageable rage.

"You know," Venkman said, turning his head to face Winston and startling him out of his reverie. "You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

The look on Venkman's face was less of the con-man grin Winston had grown accustomed to. It was softer, somehow. Friendlier. "You don't call any of us by our first names. Always "Doctor Venkman", "Doctor Stantz", "Doctor Spengler". You've been here a couple months, now- you're one of us, man."

Winston blinked, and looked away, suddenly self-conscious. "Sorry. I don't mean to sound- I dunno- unfriendly. It's just..." He trailed off. After a moment, he tried to defend himself. "You call Dr. Stantz- Ray- you call him Stantz, sometimes. And Dr. Spengler-"

"I call him Spengler, Spengs, Egon, or Egie depending on the time of day and how pissed off he's made me in the last five minutes. I don't think I've ever called him "Doctor" unless I'm introducing us to someone, or I'm trying to be a dick." Venkman turned his head back to the road. "That's the difference."

"... Gotcha."

"I guess what I'm askin' is- you know we're all on equal ground here, right? I get the feeling, don't get me wrong- Spengs and Ray know how to build nuclear super-weapons, for God's sake. And I wouldn't have my degrees if it weren't for either of them. But we all put on these jumpsuits and shoot the shit outta ghosts for a living, Winston."

Winston tried to ignore the odd feeling of warmth in his chest at the sound of his own first name. He nodded again, then said, "Yeah. I know, Doc- Peter. I know."

The silence after that was nowhere near as overpowering as before, and Winston found he was able to break it with ease this time around. "Why're we going to the tabloid office?"

The con-man grin was back with a vengeance. "They called me a disgusting fraud, you know. Among worse insults. And they didn't just stop at me- they drug up dirt about every one of us."

"Including me?"

"Hell, including Janine. They did everything from bringing up the gritty details of Egon's childhood to holding interviews with Ray's shithead brother. And you probably don't wanna know what they said about you."

"I can guess," Winston said. "But you're not just going to their office in the middle of the night to defend our honor, are you?"

"Don't count altruism out, Winston. That's part of it." He sucked in a breath. "But nah, it's not _all_ of it."

"Your family life not something you want pried into?"

"Something like that." Venkman seemed to hold a brief internal debate. "Ah, hell with it. You'll probably hear about it at some point, even if you _don't_ go reading the tabloid yourself later. My dad's a con-artist; not even a good one, anymore, since the carny went under. They said that's why I wound up with a juvenile delinquency record a mile long, got into fistfights all throughout high school and college. Said he was a shitty influence- and, he was, I guess."

"Mm."

"They interviewed one of his old business partners. About me. Basically said there's no way in hell any of what we do is real. All smoke and mirrors, all old carny tricks." Venkman glanced into the rear-view mirror, scowling. 

"So, he's wrong," Winston said. "Like most people are about our work."

Venkman winced. "Yeah, yeah, but, it's like..." He huffed, taking a hand off the wheel to scrub at his face. "There's a lotta things I don't want a tabloid to know about me. The fact that this tabloid is willing to drag up people my dad knew- people who are money-motivated, you know, not a goddamn drop of loyalty in their blood- I don't like it. They'd probably be willing to dig a hell of a lot deeper than this, and you guys don't deserve that, and I..."

He trailed off. There was no point in finishing that sentence. Instead, he watched Winston for a minute out of the corner of his eye. "They talked to some people you know, too," Venkman said, somewhat cautious now.

"Sounds about right." Winston had already been read the riot act from some of the men he knew from the army. He didn't keep in touch with most of them- his service wasn't exactly something he looked back on with fondness and nostalgia- but the general opinion was an overwhelming 'Why are you ruining your reputation by working with these frauds?' "Little surprised they were willing to talk with tabloids, though."

"Tabloids probably lied about their credentials so they could get the gossip. They interviewed three people about you. Guy called Grant, some Lieutenant guy, and..." Venkman cleared his throat. "Edward Zeddemore." 

And there it was. Winston exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. "Yeah. Figured that."

"Thought you would. At least, I hoped." 

Winston pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't argue with that logic- the knowledge that his dad talked to the tabloids about him being a disappointment is bad enough. If he'd actually had a good relationship with the elder Zeddemore, Winston would probably be feeling pretty betrayed. As it is... "I think he told most of it to my face already."

"Got that vibe, yeah."

"Old man wanted me to follow his footsteps in construction, after the army. Ghostbusting wasn't what he had in mind, you know?"

Venkman nodded. "Don't think anyone's ever hoped their kid grows up to be a Ghostbuster. Since, you know, we didn't _exist_ until this year."

"You don't think there's some toddlers out there being dressed by their parents in little jumpsuits with no-ghosts patches on the arms?"

"If there are, I'd be _real_ concerned about the parents' priorities."

Winston laughed at that- somewhat bitter, but a laugh all the same. "My dad," he continued, "was hoping I'd at least go into something solid, you know? If not construction, then business. Accounting. Maybe try college again."

"And you chose us." Venkman paused, looking aside. "Ghostbusting, I mean."

"Yeah. I chose you guys." 

Winston could all but physically feel Venkman's eyes on him, his expression unreadable. "... You did." And odd, lopsided smirk appeared on his face- and disappeared without a trace a moment later as Venkman turned back to the road. "Not far from here. Maybe five more minutes."

"You still haven't told me what we're doing."

"Remember the Class-9 we caught a few days ago?"

Winston's eyes narrowed. "So that _is_ what's in the trap you brought?"

"Quick on the draw as always, Winston." Venkman winked, and Winston felt his face heat up ever so slightly. "Figured, hey, if they don't believe in ghosts and think this is all smoke and mirrors..."

"Then they either gotta rationalize the ghost away or swallow their pride and call us," Winston continued, eyes narrowed. "Sounds a little corrupt, Dr. Venkman."

"Peter. And yeah, maybe." He shrugged, apparently unconcerned with the legality of their actions. "But I think it's a little deserved, you know?"

"Maybe." 

"You didn't see what they said about Egon and Ray. Trust me, Winston. If you think this is bad, just know that this was plan D."

"What were plans A through C?"

"A whole lot more illegal."

Winston settled back in his seat at that. Really, he wasn't sure what to think. Whether or not they were breaking the law didn't concern him as much as it should. He'd already gotten the hint that most of what they were doing wasn't up to code. Still- breaking and entering, deliberately releasing a dangerous spirit in a public area, blackmail- it's a hell of a rap sheet to earn in one night. "Why," Winston asked, "Did you bring me with you?"

"Might need backup," Venkman answered, and Winston raised his eyebrows at the lie by omission. He smirked, and acquiesced with a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't want Ray or Egon to know I'm doing this. Don't get me wrong, they don't care about a little bending of the law. But..." He trailed off, and started again. "Anyway, I trust you not to say anything."

"Why's that? Because I'm your employee?"

"You're my co-worker, Winston. I told ya. You're not working under us- you're working _with_ us. No, I trust you because... I trust you." Venkman tilted his head to one side, frowning as if he was surprised by his own conclusion. "I don't really know how to put it into words, man. But I do. And I don't really trust a lot of people, so I guess that means you're pretty special, huh?"

That wink again. Winston found himself staring deliberately out the window, trying to control his own reaction- the way his heart skipped a beat and his breath quickened. It wasn't the look on Venkman's face so much as the honest confession that it came with- a genuine, heartfelt statement from the con-man.

But he wasn't really a con-man, was he? Not the way the reporters made him out to be. Sure, Venkman could get a little corrupt, but it was usually for some greater good. 

"Hey, we're here," Venkman announced, pulling into a parking space on the side of the street. "Or close enough, at least. I don't want Ecto spotted in their parking lot right before they find a ghost in the building, you know?" 

"Definitely wouldn't be the smartest plan. Hey, how's the security at this place, anyway?" Subconsciously, Winston started moving, hopping out of the car and going around to grab the trap without being asked. It was only after that Winston remembered he should probably be more reluctant about this.

"Nowhere near as good as it should be. Did a little digging- they don't have cameras _or_ security guards. Almost like they don't expect retaliation for publishing slander." 

"Imagine that."

Venkman started to walk- presumably in the direction of the building- before pausing, turning to Winston. "Hey, uh- if you're really not cool with all this, no hard feelings. You can chill with Ecto-1 if you want."

In the two months Winston had worked with the 'busters, this was the first time he could really remember Venkman actually looking... nervous? No, not quite-

Vulnerable, more like. The man kept up an easy-going demeanor no matter how freaked out he actually was, but the facade had slipped a little. His boss- his _co-worker_ was being up-front with him. 

Winston shook his head slowly. "Nah. I'm with you, Pete."

The grin on Peter's face could light up a city block, and he reached out to put a hand on Winston's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Winston's heart hammered in his chest, and he wondered- not for the first time and certainly not the last- just what the hell he'd gotten himself into by answering that advertisement months before. 

"Alright, then. Let's get to work."


End file.
